


Nothing You Won't Do

by wildmind



Category: Law & Order: SVU
Genre: F/M, Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-26
Updated: 2020-07-27
Packaged: 2021-03-05 21:21:37
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 2
Words: 8,205
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25522042
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wildmind/pseuds/wildmind
Summary: Two years post-season 12 "Smoked," a hardened Olivia disregards 1PP’s orders and secretly investigates a string of mysterious murders that leads her into the hands of a missing undercover operative - the man who had evaporated from her life after a 14-year partnership. Unwilling to break his cover, Elliot grapples with how to protect Olivia from the targets he has finally closed in on, taking risks neither of them anticipated and ultimately making a decision that puts him where the story begins - behind the defense table, with Olivia as the prosecutor’s main weapon.
Relationships: Olivia Benson & Elliot Stabler, Olivia Benson/Elliot Stabler, Olivia Benson/Trevor Langan
Comments: 1
Kudos: 11





	1. CHAPTER 1 - WITNESS

**Author's Note:**

> PLEASE TAKE NOTE OF TRIGGER WARNINGS - ASSAULT AND SEXUAL ASSAULT
> 
> This story does not include characters or content from season 13 and beyond.
> 
> ALSO, I recognize that this story is not for everyone. It is a complex idea that I have daydreamed through for 15 years and am finally putting into words for the fandom. I welcome all feedback.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING: PLEASE NOTE CONTENT WARNING FOR DESCRIPTIONS AND SCENES OF ASSAULT AND SEXUAL ASSAULT
> 
> WARNING: SCENES OF ELLIOT BEHAVING VERY QUESTIONABLY (This too shall pass)
> 
> STORY NOTES:
> 
> This is set about two years post-season 12. Season 13 cast members are NOT included. There is no Noah, Lewis, or new detectives.
> 
> PERSONAL NOTES:
> 
> I am aware this is not the story for everyone. It is a complex idea I have daydreamed through for 15 years and felt the need to complete and share with the fandom.
> 
> Please leave reviews about what you do or don't like.

CHAPTER 1 - WITNESS

"Detective Benson," Trevor Langan began, standing up from the defense table. Olivia had just taken her seat and been sworn in for the first time since the trial began two weeks prior. She could feel her pulse speed up as the familiar lawyer approached her. She had been dreading the question she knew he was about to ask, but she sat calmly, displaying false confidence- her shoulders back, her hands neatly in her lap, her face relaxed, her eyes on Langan as he stepped forward, her heart in her throat.

"Did Detective Elliot Stabler rape you?"

"No. He did no,." Olivia replied, her appearance calm and serious.

"On May 23rd of this year, did you and Elliot have sexual intercourse?" Langan asked matter-of-factly, as he turned toward the jury.

"Yes," she assured.

"Was it consensual?" He looked back to Olivia, whose eyes had stayed on him, unwilling to look toward his client.

"Yes. It was consensual," she said with a small nod, not allowing any hint of uneasiness in her tone. She and Langan had practiced this sequence, despite her years of court experience, and he had asked his first question over and over, until she answered as unflinchingly as she had just done. No anger, no looking down, no pause, no desperation.

Langan turned back toward the jury and the defense table, as if he were unsure what other questions needed to be asked. He feigned a moment of thought.

"Has he ever assaulted you in any way?" He asked inquisitively.

"No. Absolutely not," This time she looked reassuringly at the jury while she spoke.

"Then why is he on trial?" Langan continued, turning his body toward Elliot, who sat in a navy blue suit and looked back at his lawyer with a scripted, neutral expression. No rage, no looking down, no pursed lips, no guilt.

Olivia's lines were written as, "There is no reason. He is not guilty," but instead, she paused a moment, catching Langan's look of warning before she answered.

"Because the justice system," she began, her teeth a little too clenched, looking away from Langan's discreet disapproval, "still doesn't believe women when we say what happened with our bodies. 1PP and the DA's office are using Detective Stabler as a scapegoat, because they failed to-"

"Objection!" ADA Jo Marlowe called out, standing up and refusing to meet Olivia's piercing gaze. "Your honor, the victim-"

"I am not the victim here," Olivia interrupted, her voice louder than intended, her anger showing through, "Elliot Stabl-"

"Your honor!" Marlowe implored, preventing the jury from hearing another word of Olivia's defense.

"Objection is sustained. The jury will disregard," Judge Bronson cut her off. "Detective, please comply with the rules of court, which you are well aware of."

Olivia pressed her lips together, regaining her composure as she gazed coldly past the ADA.

"Detective Benson," Langan began again, stepping forward and placing a hand on the witness stand as Olivia met his eyes, her face relaxing again. "You spent over a decade working with Detective Stabler and dealing with violent men who hurt women. Did you ever seen similarities between the perpetrators of these types of crimes and Elliot Stabler?"

"No. Never." Although she had been directed to look at the jury, she couldn't keep from glaring at Marlowe as she continued, glints of betrayal passing between the women's eyes. "He's a good man," she said firmly.

"Is he guilty of any of the charges against him?" Langan leaned in a couple inches, drawing Olivia's focus to him.

"No, he is not," she answered, reigning in the desperation she had shown before. "He did nothing wrong. He took necessary steps to protect a fellow officer and bystanders."

"And you were a willing participant in any and all contact between yourself and Detective Stabler?" Langan reiterated, glancing over at the jury once more.

"Yes. I was."

"Thank you, Detective."

Olivia took subtle deep breaths as she watched ADA Jo Marlowe shuffle papers in her hands. It was obvious that the DA's office had chosen Elliot's former partner to prosecute him because her willingness to do so would serve as a constant rebuttal to his character witnesses. Langan's objections to Marlowe's involvement in the case were pushed aside, as the DA insisted that all of the qualified ADAs had close contact with the detectives. Novak and Cabot were both still working with SVU cases, but only Marlowe would have no problem looking at Olivia with patronizing sympathy as she questioned both detectives' judgment, professionalism, and morality. She could and would rattle Olivia.

"Counselor," Judge Bronson said warningly, as Marlowe's note flipping and paper stacking dragged on.

"I apologize, your honor, lot of evidence to sort through," she replied with a conciliatory smile as she stood up. Langan let the objectionable comment slide, careful to stay in the good graces of the judge and jury by using his interjections sparingly

"Olivia, I'm so sorry to put you through this," Marlowe said, as she walked around the table with the papers still in her hands. Olivia felt every bit of smugness in the attorney's feigned concern.

"You should apologize to Detective Stabler." Olivia replied coolly. Langan leaned forward at the table, lifting his hand to rub his jaw and chin, hoping the movement would catch Olivia's attention and remind her to keep her emotions in check. She noticed it and inhaled slowly, squeezing one hand with the other in her lap. Marlowe nodded shrewdly at the jury, giving them her best "oh the poor girl" face before she turned back to Olivia.

"You've been a very loyal partner to Elliot, haven't you?" Marlowe said, looking back at Elliot as she spoke. Olivia kept her eyes on the ADA, careful not to follow her gaze.

"That's a question?" Olivia asked, her tone hinting at her annoyance. "Loyalty is part of the job."

"Have you ever spoken against any of Detective Stabler's actions?"

"I've never needed to. He's a good cop."

"So in every one of the…" Marlowe flipped a folder open and closed to check her number, "fifteen times a serious complaint was filed against Detective Stabler, you supported his actions?"

Olivia swallowed, wishing there had been a reason for an objection. "Every cop gets complaints, especiall-"

"Yes, I see that you have a number of them as well," Marlowe interrupted, opening another file.

"Your honor," Langan interjected.

"Withdrawn," Marlowe said, returning to her table, where she placed the two thick files she'd been holding. She spread out another pile of papers and chose one before turning back around to face the witness. "Detective, are you afraid of the defendant?"

Olivia narrowed her eyes, hiding a scoff of frustration. "Of course I'm not afraid of my partner."

"Your former partner," Marlowe corrected. "You requested a different one, is that right?"

"No, that isn't-"

"This isn't your formal request for a partner reassignment?" Marlowe said, holding a paper out to Olivia and then to the jury.

"Not if it's dated anytime during the first or the last five years of our partnership," Olivia retorted. Langan smiled under his hand, pleased with her ability to evade the misleading questions. Marlowe hesitated, working out how to corner her back into yes or no answers as Olivia continued, "If it is my request, you'll see that it's dated six years before Elliot was re-assigned and that the reasons listed include Detective Stabler's propensity to be overly-protective of his partner."

"Overly-protective…" Marlowe gave Elliot and then Olivia a small smile. "Just like when he raped you?"

"OBJECTION!" Langan stood this time, "Argumentative, you honor, as well as an improper characterization of Detective Stabler's actions-"

"Withdrawn, your honor," Marlowe interrupted, "I'll move on."

The words rang in Olivia's ears. No matter how many times she heard their names and that word in the same sentence, she still couldn't keep her brain from jumping into the memory, replaying all of the justifications for his actions. Replaying it all. Despite her efforts to turn the scene off, her mind ran through it again…

* * *

_Her head whipped back as her body hit the mattress, her arms twisted underneath her, handcuffed tightly behind her back. She groaned in pain, turning to one side, as the man's body climbed over her. Feeling his knees on either side of her, she sucked in a deep breath through her nose, struggling to get enough air with the duct tape over her mouth. She jerked her knee up to slam into the back of his thigh, and he pitched forward, stabilizing himself with one arm as he reached back to catch her thigh with the other. She gasped and bucked at the uncomfortable pressure of his firm grip above her knee. During their partnership, occasionally Elliot would swiftly reach across the car to squeeze her leg this way, making her jump when she threatened to fall asleep during a stake-out or laugh and roll her eyes when she got grumpy with him over something small. She had secretly been thrilled by the intimacy of that contact, but the fingers there now made her want to crawl out of her skin. Her bitter moan became louder and sharper as he tightened his hand to a bruising hold._

_Smiling at her subdued pain, he leaned down, pressing his mouth into her temple. "You know I'm going to kill you, right? Just like the other ones." he breathed into her ear. She tried to turn her head away from him, but he shoved his tense jaw against her, pinning her head in place against the mattress, "Just as soon as we're all done with you."_

_"Sam," Marko called out firmly in his subtle Serbian accent, halting the man who hovered over Olivia. "Elliot's earned this one, don't you think?"_

_Sam's face flashed a moment of anger before he nodded agreeably and climbed off of Olivia._

_Elliot gave Sam a satisfied shrug as they crossed paths next to the bed where Olivia was maneuvering her legs to the edge._

_"Where do you think you're going?" Elliot said to her, reaching the side of the bed just as she pulled herself to a sitting position in front of him._

* * *

After Marlowe selected another file to carry about with her, she approached Olivia again, "Detective Benson," she began, inviting Olivia back to the present, "have you changed your story at any point?"

"No," Olivia replied, sure of herself.

"Detective Tutuola testified that when he asked if you had been raped, you said yes. Is that true?" As soon as Olivia heard Fin's name, she felt the heat rise in her cheeks and glanced down at her hands. She looked back up to where he stood in the back of the court. His face was a mix of guilt and conviction. She hadn't spoken to him in weeks, but she knew he had told the truth in court and that he was angry about what had happened to her. The whole squad had questioned Elliot's behavior, pushing back at her desperation to defend him. Fin had been the most unwilling to see Elliot's actions in a good light, and their friendship had crumbled as some of her coworkers sided with him, insisting they were protecting her by supporting the DA's charges.

"Detective?" Marlowe urged, "Was Detective Tutuola lying under oath?"

"No, I-"

"Then you were raped?" Marlowe interrupted again. Olivia pursed her lips, clearly flustered as she shifted and searched for the right words to shut down the line of questioning.

"I consented to sex with Elliot." Olivia spoke in less official terms and used only his first name when describing the physical contact between them, knowing this would allow the jury to see the more intimate side of their relationship.

"How did you consent?" Marlowe asked, tilting her head as she walked from the table toward the witness box with another set of papers. Olivia opened her mouth to respond but stopped as she contemplated how to avoid the inevitable path the ADA was taking.

"I nodded," she said unwaveringly.

"Did you say anything? Yes or no?.. Or anything at all?"

Olivia leaned toward the microphone. "No, I nodded." She enunciated clearly, as if Marlowe hadn't heard or understood the first time.

"Why?" the lawyer continued, not giving up on her plan.

"Because it effectively communicated consent." Olivia said, still leaned forward and speaking in a patronizing tone.

Marlowe shook her head reproachfully and sighed, walking over to the jury to lean her hand on the railing as she looked over her shoulder at Olivia. "Detective Benson, was your mouth duct-taped shut at the time of the…" Marlowe paused pointedly, "consensual sex?"

Olivia sat up straight in the chair, biting the inside of her cheeks, knowing she was trapped into giving an answer she hadn't wanted to give.

"Yes."

"And who put the tape on your mouth?" Marlowe looked scornfully at Elliot. Olivia swallowed, her heart pounding in her chest as she stared into the back walls of the courtroom.

* * *

_"Being a little rough on the product, don't ya think?" Elliot said casually as he opened the door of the small room. Marko raised an eyebrow as he turned his head toward the intruder and smiled._

_"These clients, they like to share. The bruises will only make her better for them," he said. Elliot smiled back at the man in charge and nodded, raising his hands in an apologetic surrender._

_Marko reached out and grabbed the hand Olivia was holding against her swelling cheek and yanked her toward the door._

_"Get your fucking hands off me, you son of a bitch!" she hissed, her other hand grasping his fingers, as she tried to wrench them off of her wrist. Marko's free hand lunged toward her face, and Olivia let out a suppressed yelp, as he grabbed her jaw and jerked her head closer to his._

_"Told you she had a smart mouth," Elliot interrupted with a chuckle, lifting his hand to show a roll of duct tape he had brought in with him. Marko nodded in approval, roughly twisting Olivia's body so that her back was against his chest while still digging his fingers into her cheeks to keep her still. He was tall enough that his chin helped to hold her head in place, his shadowy beard scratching at her scalp._

_Elliot tore a piece of tape from the roll and tossed the rest aside. "Can't tell you how many times I thought about doing this," he smirked to Marko as he stepped toward them. Olivia let go of Marko to block Elliot's approach, feeling a sting of pain as the hand on her mouth tightened._

_"No… No," she muttered through Marko's grip, clutching Elliot's forearm to keep the tape away from her face. Her hold did almost nothing to slow his hands, as they stretched the tape across her mouth and thumbed it into her skin, her hand still clinging tightly to his arm. With the other, he reached into his back pocket, pulling out her handcuffs and snapping them onto her wrist before she could pull away. Marko used the hand he no longer needed for her mouth to turn her around to face him, a pompous half-smile on his face as he passed her other hand to Elliot, who clicked it into the other handcuff behind her back._

* * *

"It was part of an undercover operation." Olivia answered the lingering question.

"Your honor," Marlowe sighed.

"Detective, you'll need to answer directly," the judge told her, his earlier sharpness dulled by the content of the questions.

"He did that to protect us both," Olivia replied, a hint of pleading in her voice. She could feel her eyes getting watery, so she swallowed again and pressed her fingernails into her palms to stifle the emotions. She knew Marlowe wanted her to be seen as a victim- as Elliot's victim.

"Did he restrain you at all?"

"I was handcuffed." She answered unaffectedly.

"By the defendant?"

"Elliot and I chose that as part of an undercover operation."

"So to clarify, Elliot Stabler put duct tape over your mouth and cuffed your hands behind your back before you were raped?"

"Stop twisting my words," Olivia snapped back, "Elliot did not rape me."

"So you wanted it to happen?"

Olivia's eyes widened as the rest of her froze. The certainty melted from her face as she stared back at Jo Marlowe. Marlowe glanced at the judge and back, subtly threatening Olivia, but the silence continued for more eternal seconds. Without meaning to, Olivia's eyes darted to Elliot, who was focused intently on the table in front of him, before she looked back to the wall. She had seen the tormented look on his face, as he anticipated her answer, and she felt his pain in her own chest.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> THANK YOU FOR READING! More to come... In the meantime, please review! :)


	2. CHAPTER 2 - HISTORY

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING: Please note content warnings for descriptions and scenes of assault and sexual assault.
> 
> Also, wanted to give any readers the same context that I gave my awesome twitter GC (shout out to some fandom pals) about this type of content:
> 
> Some people have the urge to write or read certain things and don't always know where it came from or why it's interesting (maybe even cathartic). What I do know is that I'm not alone in reading and writing about sexual assault, and I've been drawn to the endless amount of SVU fanfics in this vein since I was a young teen (many of the amazing and unique writers of those stories helped to shape this one). I can't explain why I wrote this story to people who don't approve of it, but I've learned to stop being ashamed of myself, like I was for a decade after my mom found one of my hand-written fics and had an intervention with me over it. I wish I had owned my obsession with SVU and my inclinations to write these stories long ago, and I'm so glad to have recently met some kindred spirits among the EO-shippers.

CHAPTER 2 - HISTORY

"Of the options available, I chose that," she said a bit more quietly than she'd spoken so far.

"You chose to have sex with Detective Stabler in front of three other men?"

"Objection. Asked and answered," Langan kept his lowered eyes on Olivia, ready to request a recess if needed. He could see her shaky breath and her eyes betraying her resolve to be stoic.

"Sustained."

"Detective, I know this is very traumatic to talk about, so if you need a break, we can stop. I have a few more difficult questions." Marlowe lifted a file as she stepped close to Olivia, resting her palm on the witness stand and looking up with pity. Despite her effort to stay in control, Olivia felt Marlowe winning. She was exposed, her emotions bubbling beneath the surface, and Jo Marlowe knew it. Olivia's lips tightened.

"I'm fine," she said in a quick whisper. Marlowe nodded and opened her folder, walking over to the jury to hand one of them a stack of photos before holding an identical stack in front of Olivia.

"The jury will recall seeing these photos during previous testimony, but I've provided them for reference while we discuss them." Marlowe spoke to the defense table, warding off potential objections as Olivia took the pile from her hand, not looking down at the images. "Detective, can you describe these photos?"

Olivia knew the photos would depict one of a few options, and she wasn't prepared to see any of them, but her hesitancy was revealing, so she clenched her jaw and looked down. The image on top was of her own arms. It showed dark bruises around her wrists and more on her biceps. She hadn't seen the photos before, and she was trembling as the ADA encouraged her to look through them for a moment. The jury was watching her intently, and she knew she had to react as little as possible. She flipped to the next and saw her neck, discolored with bruises, some visible fingerprints on her collarbone and just below her chin. She wanted to pull her gun out and shoot a thousand holes into the stack of photos in her hand, but instead she had to calmly look through them as Marlowe gloated in front of her. Her chest was so tight that she couldn't get enough air in, and heat radiated through her body as her ears began ringing. A second later, her vision was blurring while her shaky hand flipped to the next page. Seeing an unfocused outline of her lower back, she let her eyes stay fuzzy as she quickly shuffled through the rest of the photos, seeing none of them, and held them back out to Marlowe. She took a moment to breathe and let the wave of nausea pass as her vision refocused and the hum in her head lessened. Marlowe took the photos from her hand, and Olivia swallowed again before she spoke.

"These photos show injuries I sustained during the attack on myself and Detective Stabler," Olivia explained, her voice monotone.

"Isn't Detective Stabler the person who inflicted some if not all of these injuries?" Marlowe said, holding up the pictures so that Olivia could see the one on top. It was a side-view of her face, her messy hair tucked behind her ear. Small bruises were peppered around her mouth in the red outline left by the tape, and her cheekbone was bruised and scabbed. But the part that made her want to die, that made her contemplate asking Jo Marlowe for a break, was the view of her puffy, red and purple eyes. It wasn't another injury but rather a declaration of the tears she had wept before the photos were taken.

* * *

_Olivia reached to open her apartment building door, just as another vehicle pulled up behind the patrol car that had dropped her off. She squinted through the beams of light, seeing a figure emerge quickly from the driver's door._

" _Olivia, wait," Melinda Warner called out, and the sight of the medical examiner filled Olivia with unfounded terror._

" _Is Elliot okay?" she asked Melinda urgently, taking a step in her direction._

" _He's fine, I'm sure. Fin said he's in FBI custody for now. I'm here for you." Melinda reassured, the relief evident on Olivia's face as the two women met on the sidewalk. Olivia looked into the window of the patrol car and nodded to the officer, letting him know it was all right to leave._

" _Melinda, I'm okay. I'm sorry Fin woke you. He's worried about me being alone, but I just need to… take a shower, sleep. I'm really okay." Olivia could read Melinda's disapproving look as her friend waited for her to finish talking._

" _You're not okay, and you're not taking a shower until you do a rape kit." Melinda told her sternly, gesturing back at her running car. Olivia let her head drop, pinching the bridge of her nose and making a show of her exhaustion._

" _I don't need one," she breathed, looking back at Melinda with unconvincing surety._

" _You do." Melinda nodded, as confident in her words as she always was._

" _Melinda, Fin's wrong about what happened," Olivia barked, speaking indignantly with her hands. Melinda caught sight of the bruises on her wrists and eyed them openly, then shifted her astute gaze back to Olivia's face. "It's complicated.. You don't understand…" Olivia continued her agitated explanations._

" _Olivia, I get it… our jobs are who we are, no matter what happens, and I understand you don't want this to keep you from doing yours, but-"_

" _It wasn-" Olivia interjected, but Melinda held a hand up to stop her, a fiercely determined look in her eye, and Olivia closed her mouth._

" _I'm sorry this happened, but it's not going to disappear just because you don't cooperate with standard procedure."_

" _I don't know what Fin is reporting or what he thinks I said-" Olivia looked back and forth, feigning ignorance._

" _I'm not talking about what he reports or what you report. I'm talking about how you're going to keep doing your job after this. What are you going to say to the next victim who feels like they can't have a rape kit done?" Olivia looked back at her silently, guilt-ridden. She had left the hospital, sure that a rape kit could only damage her and Elliot's professional and personal lives, but another part of her was terrified of what Elliot was saying elsewhere. Would he tell them what they had been through, unaware that Olivia was giving a contradictory story? Would her unwillingness to cooperate hurt their case against Marko Tomic? Most importantly, would Elliot see her actions as proof that she felt he was responsible for what happened?_

" _I don't know," Olivia whispered, to her own questions and to Melinda's._

" _You can tell them how you got through it. I'm taking you back to the hospital." Melinda opened the passenger door, and after a moment, Olivia carefully got in the car, too tired and confused to fight, too unsure of herself not to trust Melinda's judgment. Although they'd been friends for over a decade, they were not affectionate or wordy, but rather, they shared the bond of two steadfast and tough women in a field that constantly reminded them how fragile they were. When one faltered, the other was strong for her, reminding her of their common tenacity. Sitting next to her reliable and knowing friend, Olivia's facade finally gave out, and tears slipped from her eyes. By the time they reached the hospital, Olivia was weeping, wiping her eyes with her hands over and over and trying to catch her breath, as Melinda waited silently. Ten minutes later, Olivia had managed to compose herself, aside from her swollen, red face and lingering deep breaths. Melinda pulled the car the remaining distance to the ER entrance, where Fin stood outside._

" _I'll be right here if you need me," she told Olivia, knowing her friend wanted less observers, not more. She would wait to drive Olivia home hours later._

* * *

"No," Olivia clenched her jaw tightly to stop her mouth from quivering, but the tears pooling in her eyes threatened to spill over, so she quickly lifted both hands to swipe them away and regained her composure. "It's more complicated than whose hands were where. Elliot didn't do any of this by choice. He was assaulted just like I was. He didn't want this. " Olivia was embarrassed to hear herself pleading, and she knew she was letting Langan, and Elliot, down, but Marlowe had succeeded in making Elliot look guilty, and she couldn't keep herself from begging the jury to understand.

"But to clarify, it was his hands that caused the injuries in these photos?"

"Objection, badgering. Detective Benson answered the question." Langan had finally found an excuse to step in and give Olivia a reprieve. Though the objection was questionable, the judge had clearly grown less comfortable with the questions as he looked sympathetically at Olivia.

"Sustained, move on from the photos." Marlowe nodded understandingly, then walked away from Olivia to the defense table, where she slid the stack of pictures directly under Elliot's downcast eyes. As soon as the image invaded his brain, his eyes shot up to Marlowe, disgust and betrayal flashing across his face for a moment before it went blank again.

"Just one more thing," Marlowe said, eyes still locked onto Elliot's. She turned back toward Olivia but stayed just in front of the table where Elliot sat. Olivia's eyes were still aimed at the familiar, faceless wall. "This man that you've said had no choice, didn't want any of this…" Marlowe gestured toward Elliot, and Olivia looked over at her, aware of Elliot in the background. She saw him looking down, as he had been before, but the photo was still in front of his eyes, and he was staring at it. She couldn't imagine feeling more exposed than she did at that instant, that is, until Jo Marlowe finished her last question. "Did he ejaculate… as your rape kit suggests?"

Olivia's wide eyes looked vacantly at the lawyer, her mouth agape as if she had a response, but she just stared silently, her eyebrows knitted and her cheeks burning. She shifted her focus to Langan, who met her gaze for a moment before looking down helplessly. In her peripheral, she could see Elliot, who was pushing his thumbs hard into his eyes and chewing on his bottom lip. She knew his knuckles would be torn up the next day, that he had been boiling beneath the surface and was wearing thin. This was the moment in her memory that she had never discussed with anyone, and she had hoped the evidence of it would be brushed over as a standard finding in a rape kit. She was expecting to discuss the DNA and its matching alleles to Elliot Stabler's, but she wasn't prepared for the questions that she had worked through in her mind over and over since that day. _How could he? Why didn't her misery make it impossible for him? Couldn't he have made an excuse? Claimed he didn't want to leave evidence? Wasn't there a way he could have spared her this one thing?_ Each time her brain began asking, her heart jumped to his defense. She knew him. His eyes had been closed, his mouth against her skin, a hand tangled in her hair, the other holding onto hers. In that moment, he had needed them to be lovers, so that he could do what had to be done. She knew his reasons, and every time she found her way back to them, she felt the sickening pressure under her chin rise up. He was the one who had been through both of their worst nightmares; he had been the perpetrator. She clenched her jaw tighter to keep from vomiting or crying or screaming or shooting Jo Marlowe.

"I don't know," she lied, letting the tension in her body hold her upright. She did know, of course. She could see, smell, hear, feel every moment of it all, vividly, and she was sure Elliot could too. But the scene his mind would play wouldn't be the one she knew so well: the sight of his clenched hand and cheek and eye; the smell of the dirty mattress pressed against her nose; the sound of men laughing and talking; the feeling of him digging into her- his fingers, his face, his hips. All of him. Instead, his mind would see her bruised hands and cheek and eye; would smell her skin and hair pressed against his nose; would hear her whimpering and gasping; would feel her struggling against him, struggling to breath. The bile rose in her throat at the thought of that view. Not the view of him, but his of her. The strong image of herself that she had built for his eyes had been broken to pieces below him, and she believed he would never again be able to see his confident and capable partner in her.

Marlowe continued her questions, badgering for the minuscule details that haunted her brain. She asked about her gun, her radio, her outcry statement, her clothes…but Olivia was done, and Langan was objecting, and the only answers Marlowe got before the judged called a recess were "I don't know," and "I don't know," and "I don't know."

When she heard the gavel, Olivia stood calmly and walked out of the courtroom, using her hand to block her face with a hair tuck as she passed by the attorneys. She didn't hear Langan trying to stop her; she didn't see Elliot subtly grasp his attorney's arm to keep him from getting Olivia's attention. He didn't want to look at her any more than she wanted to look at him.

* * *

_Olivia's heavy eyes blinked slowly as she tried to figure out where she had just woken up. The gray walls came into focus, and then the black metal door with its bars and locks. Realizing where she was again, she jumped up to get away from the bed but felt the hold of the handcuffs on her wrists, keeping her back against the bed. She tried to curl her legs underneath her, but found they were also tied down. She twisted and kicked at the restraints, then heard the door opening in response to the sounds. The dark-haired man she had seen before she passed out was coming toward her, a needle syringe in his hand. She looked toward the open door and screamed Elliot's name, but when she looked back to the man, it was Elliot holding the needle, coming toward her, crawling on top of her, holding her mouth shut as the needle turned to a knife and sunk into her stomach._

* * *

Olivia lurched awake in the early morning, seeing her dimly-lit apartment bedroom around her. She breathed in relief and groaned in irritation at the convoluted nightmare - one of many variants that had plagued her sleep since Elliot's trial began.

Six hours later , Olivia was walking just as calmly right back into the courtroom as she had walked out the day before. The only outward sign of her sleepless night was her exhausted, dark eyes. The rest of her was as put together as she'd ever been, and she was certain that, after the previous day, nothing would shake her.

Olivia took her seat at the witness stand and looked straight at Marlowe, unfazed, as she was sworn in.

"Your witness, counselor," The judge said to Marlowe, motioning toward Olivia.

"Detective Benson, I just have a couple general questions since you didn't want to get into any more of the details." Marlowe remained seated at the table as she spoke. Olivia waited for the questions, not acknowledging the ADA's words, knowing they actually meant to nudge her mind back into those details again.

"Was Detective Stabler ever alone with you during the six days that he was holding you against your will?"

"Objection, prejudicial," Langan raised.

"I'll rephrase… during the six days that you were kept restrained or locked up?" she offered, leaning forward to rest her elbows on the table as she looked to Langan for approval. He nodded at Olivia, his eyes rolling inconspicuously at Marlowe's boundary-pushing.

"Not completely," she answered curtly.

"Your initial report details multiple times that you and Detective Stabler were able to speak privately, including in a vehicle at a gas station, a hotel room, a basement with a door. Doesn't that indicate that you were alone?"

"The targets of Detective Stabler's investigation were always nearby and attentive."

"So there was never a time that it would have been possible for him to let you escape?"

"Not safely."

"I thought everything he did was to protect you… Couldn't he have distracted the others so you could go into the gas station or shielded you long enough for you to get out of the hotel room? Or basement door?"

"Objection," Langan called out from his seat again. "Your honor, these questions are speculative."

"On the contrary, these detectives are trained to assess this type of situation," Marlowe contended.

"They couldn't-"

"Overruled, counselor," Judge Bronson cut Langan off, "the witness may answer."

"No, not safely," Olivia repeated. "We were never out of gunshot range from the targets, and Detective Stabler was unarmed."

Marlowe nodded her usual condescension. "Olivia, if you had been offered any option to escape rather being forced into engaging sexually with the defendant, would you have taken it?"

This time Langan held in his objection, knowing she hadn't referred directly to Elliot as the one forcing, and knowing she would get her point across with or without another interruption from him.

"As I said before, I chose to have to sex with Elliot." Olivia's demeanor was unshrinking, and Langan breathed his relief as she continued to impress him with her strength and acumen.

"But you only chose that under duress _and_ when no other option was given to you, is that not correct?" Marlowe implored, watching the jury's expressions.

Olivia faltered a moment, her resolve to protect Elliot at all costs butting up against her own truth. There were choices he could have let her make that he made himself instead. Though it was true that he could not have let her run from the car, or into the gas station, or out of the basement, there was another option that he did not offer her, an option that she would have chosen - he could have let another man be the one who raped her. For both of their sakes. She knew deeply that he had been trying to make the self-sacrificial choice, to protect her in the only way he could think of, at the cost of himself. But he could not have understood how his own shame would double hers, how his choice had made her the one who ruined his life. And he could not have understood that he was the last person she would have chosen to see her in that way. She resented him for not knowing that, but her resentment was nothing compared to her protectiveness, so she gave the necessary answer.

"We both decided to do what needed to be done to protect a fellow officer. I chose it just as much as he did."

"No further questions."

Olivia uncrossed her legs to stand, but saw Trevor Langan stand up.

"Redirect, your honor?" he asked. Olivia looked at him puzzled. She wasn't proud of how the last day had ended, and she knew that Langan was worried about her being perceived by the jury as a victim, but she had held it together since then, and they hadn't discussed or practiced any further questions. As the judge nodded an acceptance, Langan looked down at his notes with pursed lips, tapping his mouth with his pen. Olivia could see an apprehension she wasn't used to from him, and she felt nervous as he looked up to meet her eyes with an apology written on his face.

"Detective Benson," he began, still standing behind the defense table as he looked between Olivia and the jury, "You've testified numerous times that the sexual contact you had with Elliot Stabler was consensual, correct?"

"Yes," she replied, hoping it would be the last question she had to answer in this trial.

"Was it the only time?" he asked with curiosity that sounded genuine. Olivia scrunched her face in confusion, unsure of what the words meant.

"What do you…" She wasn't sure how he could possibly be confused about the details of the case, but she tried to clarify so that he could make whatever point he needed to. "Yes, there was only one ti-"

"Had you and Elliot ever had sex before the events of this case, prior to his going undercover?" Langan interrupted.

Olivia stared perplexedly at him, as her mind unraveled what he was asking. She and Elliot had both answered this question throughout their partnership - to IAB, to psychiatrists, to Elliot's family, to every man she dated, to Jo Marlowe. The answer was no, on the record. Langan would have this information already, but she couldn't work out how it was relevant or what helpful path it could take. The seconds of silence that had gone by would look suspicious, she knew, but as she opened her mouth to speak, she caught Langan's guilt-ridden face and finally comprehended the answer he expected - the off-the-record, true answer. Her eyes shifted, from a confused gaze at Langan to a betrayed glance at Elliot. But where she expected shame, she saw betrayal reflected back at her, and she knew that he hadn't told Langan, and that he was realizing she hadn't either.

"Yes," Olivia answered, letting her embarrassment be seen. "During our partnership, Elliot and I had sex." She understood now, and even though she hated the fact that their sexual history would make the jury less likely to believe a rape occurred, she was willing to use it to help Elliot.

Langan nodded, happy with the ambiguity of her response. "Thank you, Detective. I have no further questions." He said, sitting down and looking over to Marlowe, who sat back in her chair with a small smirk, her eyes focused on Olivia's flushed face.

"The witness is dismissed," said Judge Bronson, and Olivia walked out with her head held high, meeting eyes with no one in the courtroom.

Nine hours later, Trevor Langan stepped into the small hallway between his elevator and penthouse apartment.

"Surprised you didn't break in," he said with a nervous smile, walking toward the woman who stood leaning against his door.

"How did you know?" Olivia asked, looking up at him with narrowed eyes.

"Olivia…" he said, stepping closer to her, "Come inside."

"No thanks," she said caustically. "How?"

Langan sighed and reached next to her body, where he entered the code to his lock and grasped the handle. Olivia stood up from the door as it opened behind her, but she pressed her palm into the frame, blocking his path inside. " _How_?" She repeated sharply.

"Elliot-"

"He didn't tell you that. Who was it?" she sternly cut him off. Langan looked at her reprovingly as he lifted his hand to gently grasp her forearm and move it from the doorway. He turned sideways to minimize his contact with her body as he stepped past her into his apartment and tugged the arm he still held onto. Olivia groaned and stepped just inside, letting him close the door behind them as she pulled away from him.

"Elliot's _wife,_ " he continued his explanation,

"He never told her," she insisted, cutting him off again.

"He didn't have to, Olivia," he said, settling his hands into his pockets, as they stood next to his door, a foot apart.

"No, she didn't know. We weren't-"

"Are you kidding? You really thought she couldn't tell?" he argued, the edge in his voice becoming more evident, "Why do you think _I_ asked you?"

Olivia's self-assurance disappeared, and she looked away from him. "Trevor, it wasn't like that. I didn't-"

"You didn't lie to me about it?" he accused, lowering his head to force eye contact with her. She crossed her arms and inhaled apprehensively before looking back at him.

"I'm sorry," she said, ashamed, "I never told anyone."

Langan clicked his tongue between his teeth and let out a bitter laugh. "Anyone," he repeated her word pointedly, as he turned away from her and walked to sit on his couch. "Didn't realize that was my category."

Olivia sighed, biting the inside of her cheeks as she followed him into the living room and sat on the opposite side of the couch. She was raw and overwhelmed from the days in court, and her eyes glistened as she leaned forward, resting her mouth against her hands. She knew this conversation had been inevitable since the moment he asked the question in court, and she had come here to have it. She needed to explain herself, to defend his opinion of her, but most importantly to rid herself of the guilt. She couldn't bear to feel any more of it than she already did, and she knew Trevor would forgive her easily. She counted on the adoration that she could still see in his eyes, and that too she was ashamed of.

At work, he had always appeared perfectly reserved and professional around her, until some way or another, they'd end up alone, and he'd be unable to resist the pull toward her. A comment, a touch, even a look, and they'd be in bed before she knew it. No one around them ever knew. Except maybe for Elliot, she thought. Elliot acted like he owned her more than ever when the lawyer was nearby. They'd be sitting in court during a criminal case, and Elliot's arm would be draped behind her. On the courthouse steps, his hand would find her back or arm. In the interrogation room, whenever Langan came to collect a client, Elliot would find a reason to whisper to Olivia, his mouth touching her hair, almost against her skin. Any time he could manage it, Elliot would place himself between Olivia and Trevor Langan, but his possessiveness only fueled the attraction more. Langan felt the competition, and he reveled in finding ways to get Olivia alone while her partner was close by. Olivia too was charged by Langan's presence, which Elliot ensured with his excessive attention and proximity to her body. For years, it was almost impossible for them to see each other without sleeping together, from the first time she and Elliot interrupted his dinner with Alex Cabot until the time she came over to yell at him for defending William Harris. That last night, they fought and then fucked more intensely than ever, but the next morning, Trevor got serious like he occasionally did, asking her why they still weren't together, telling her how he felt about her. She made an excuse to leave before they finished the conversation, then dodged his calls for a few days. She didn't return his calls for months, until the week Elliot had put in his papers. She had struggled through a few days before showing up at his apartment, needing an escape, but she and Trevor's connection had always been tied to Elliot, like all things were. That night had left her reeling with the knowledge that even her escapes had abandoned her. The next time she saw Trevor, she was standing in his office asking him to represent Elliot.

"I should've told you," she whispered, turning her head toward him as her cheek rested on her hands. He shrugged, leaning back into the couch and resting his arms along the top of it "It only happened once, and I just wanted to forget-"

"Olivia. Don't." he interjected. She tried to continue her self-defense, but he waved his hand to shut her up as he spoke to the wall across the room. "Your partner got to have you whenever he wanted." Olivia stood up from the couch in an angry huff as he went on, "Meanwhile I'm-"

"Excuse me?" She snarled, taking a couple steps to stand directly in front of him, her voice high-pitched with frustration, "Are you serious right now?!" She got louder, leaning closer into his face. "ONE. TIME. Forever ago. It happened ONCE."

He looked at her with a forced smirk and nodded, unconvinced. "Fine. But it was always about him," he scoffed, "You never had any room for anyone but _him_."

"I never had room for anything but work!" she argued, her exasperation evident in her body language as she stood up straight and ran her hands through her hair.

"I'm not an idiot, Olivia!" He raised his voice to match her, shaking his head with indignation.

"We were NOT sleeping together. It wasn't. like. that!" She stood over him with her face condescendingly close, as she bit out each word.

"Why not?!" He hissed bitterly, looking straight into her searing eyes, only inches from his. "You clearly weren't opposed to it. You may as well have being fucking him for the last ten years."

"Oh I'm sorry! I've been fucking YOU for the last ten years!" she snapped back, her angry hands at her temples, enunciating her frustration.

Abruptly, Langan took her hands in his, pulling them against his chest. "I know. You're right, okay? I know," he said, as he reached for her arms and face, trying to bring her closer to him. She gasped at the contact, pulling her hands away from his body, pulling his hands off of hers. His touch was light, but he continued holding, trying to draw her into him. She had been in control a moment before, but suddenly she was wide-eyed, unable to catch her breath, unable to get her mouth to say the word. She shook her head no, struggling against his grip for a few long seconds, before he realized what he was doing and let her go all at once. She stumbled back a step as he held his hands up in surrender. "Fuck, I'm sorry. I'm sorry, Liv. I… I wasn't thinking. I'm so sorry" he pleaded, his hands crushing his temples. She steadied herself a few feet away from him, taking deep breaths, embarrassed at her body's reaction. She shook her head trying to reassure him as he blabbered his apologies.

"It's fine… I know. You didn't mean to… Trevor, it's fine. I'm fine."

"No, it's not. What the hell is wrong with me?.. FUCK! I'm so sorry," he went on, as she calmed her brain quickly. Composure was a skill she had been forced to sharpen over the last months. Even just hours after everything had happened with Elliot, he had needed her to be unafraid of him, needed her to touch him in order to survive what he had done. Her soul had needed to take care of Elliot more than her body needed to be away from him, so she had stifled everything in her that reacted and let him be close. Olivia was practiced in overcoming her fear for someone else's sake, so she did, again. She walked back to Trevor and sat right next to him on the couch, taking his hands into hers on her knee. They looked at each other silently, both feeling the need to keep apologizing.

"Let me take you home," he said after a minute, thumbing her hand soothingly. She nodded with a sad smile, knowing he'd insist. "I can stay again if you want?" he couldn't help but add.

"No, I'm okay. You've slept on my couch enough lately," she muttered as she stood up, letting go of his hands.

He nodded in agreement, standing with a regret-filled sigh as he followed her to the door.

Twenty minutes later, he parked in front of her building, offering again to bring his overnight bag up with him, but she passed on his offer once more, letting him walk into her apartment long enough for her to turn on the lights and turn off the alarm. They parted with an uncomfortable smile and a thank you, as she shut and locked the door behind him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **THANK YOU FOR READING CHAPTER 2! Please review :)

**Author's Note:**

> Explanations to come... Please review! :)


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